For You, Anything
by biteme4realz
Summary: The sweetest voice in the world did not belong to my beloved imprint. No, her tones struck terror in the hearts of many, much stronger than I. Yet here Rachel was leaning over me, whispering gently. A Paul and Rachel imprint story.
1. Ch 1, Bad Haircut

**Author's Note and Prologue**

Rachel Black was strong, popular, and loved to torture Paul. Paul was weak, asthmatic, and lived in fear of Rachel. But because Paul's parents were always working, they had been forced to grow up together. Everyday afterschool, Paul was shuffled off to the Black's house where he spent his childhood desperately trying to avoid Rachel's persecutions.

What happens when years later Rachel comes back from college and Paul imprints on her? Paul may find out that for Rachel, not much has changed. She's only back in La Push for a week before moving to Seattle permanently. Can Paul get her to stay? Or will she only ever see him as the boy she used to torture?

This fanfic sprung out of reading not just Stephenie Meyer's Twilight Saga, but also Clichesbullet's fanfiction, Bada Bing, Bada Boom! Most relevant to my story (aside from the whole world Meyer's created!) is Chapter Seven in Clichesbullet's fanfic. In it, we find out that Paul is allergic to peanuts and that Rachel enjoys doing "science experiments" on imprinted werewolves. Testing his ability to heal, she slams a shovel into his nose; and finding out how far his delusional love will take him, she kicks a rock off a cliff and tells him to go fetch. Lovely girl!

All characters belong to Stephenie Meyers and Clichesbullet, and are used innocently and without permission.

**Chapter 1. Bad Haircut**

Taking Rachel to dinner tonight in Port Angeles was clearly a mistake. I had thought it would be intimate, quiet, peaceful, riding so far through the woods together. But then I heard the backpack unzip, followed by a maniacal giggle. How was she not holding on? And why was she laughing?

_Clip. Clip Clip. _What the hell? Were those scissors? I abruptly slowed down, trying to see behind me.

"Woah, Paulie. Don't slow down like that. If I stab you, it will be practically unintentional," she quipped. "Keep going. I'm good back here."

Now do I trust Rachel? No. Would I grow an ear back if she cut it off? No. But I was pretty sure she couldn't reach that far up on my head either. So do I keep running and risk her stabbing me?

I sighed in resignation. Why the hell not. It's been like this since I imprinted, right? Except she actually has my heart in one hand and the scissors are stabbing it repeatedly. But what if she stabs herself accidently? That thought had me slowing way down.

"Calm down Pollyanna. I was just curious about something. I'm putting the scissors away."

Just curious about something? Great. This was not going to end well for me. But hearing the backpack zip closed was comforting nonetheless.

Then I heard it: the unbelievable and yet very real sound of an electric razor. Rachel acted quickly, knowing she had about a second before I recovered enough to stop her, and shaved a very neat patch of fur right off my back.

Embry and Sam were laughing hysterically, incredulous that the universe could be so clever as to punish me for life with such an imprint.

_You want to play, huh Rach? Well don't mess with a werewolf. We always win. _I thought at her silently. It was so much easier being brave as a wolf.

Embry saw the plan form in my head and started laughing. _Five bucks says Rachel wins. Um, forever_.

_Thanks for the support Embry. I appreciate it._

I abruptly laid down and rolled to the side to get crazy barber woman off my back. In another second I had grabbed the shaver in my jaws and chomped it.

Rachel just beamed at me innocently, trying to hold back the peal of laughter that the rest of the pack was freely letting loose in my head for her.

I stepped forward until my face was mere inches from hers and growled. Her eyes got big and her pulse definitely picked up speed but she refused to admit she was scared and instead guffawed at me.

"Yeah right Paul. You won't hurt me."

I growled louder, baring my teeth.

Confusion briefly registered on her face before horror as she caught sight of my humongous drooling tongue lolling out of my mouth, ready to give her the nastiest face bath she'd ever had.

"Don't–"

Hmm, she tasted good. I couldn't stop myself from tickling her in the side with my nose too for good measure.

She shrieked, "Paul, oh my god, Paul. Go away. You're so gross." But she was laughing so hard she couldn't keep talking.

After drying off her face, she tried to look pissed but was fighting a smile. "You're really pleased with yourself, aren't you?"

Of course I was. I nodded.

She just leaned forward and whispered in my ear before climbing back on, "We'll see who's laughing when you phase back and have a giant bald spot on your head."

Damn her little science experiments. She was probably right and I would have a big patch of hair missing.

_Just hope it's from your head dude. _

_You're hilarious, Sam._

"I'm a bitch Pauleek. Believe me when I say that you can't possibly love me, imprint or no."

I barked at her. She was so ridiculous. Rachel was fun. Granted that fun came at my expense most of the time but –

"I should know. I've had loads of flings. I mean more guys than any decent girl would care to admit. And it's never about love. It's just nice to have someone around at night."

I couldn't help the strangled howl. I wanted to scream at her to not talk about other guys. But of course Rachel was taking advantage of my silence to cut off more than a spot of hair on my back.

"And you know what I've found, it doesn't really matter who. As long as we didn't talk – and we usually didn't –"

Oh my god. Did she have any idea how much she was hurting me?

"–It was all the same. Guys by night. Me lost in the stacks at the library by day. I liked that life. I still do. Can't you understand why it doesn't make sense for me to stay here? Aside from the obvious lack of reading material in La Push. The things that I like here I can find anywhere. There's nothing holding me here. I mean, yeah, I'll admit I've had fun with you; how many people in La Push can even stand to be in the same room with me, much less want to hang out. And it's not everyday you get to ride or shave a wolf to dinner. But when I'm in Seattle, people don't even think there's anything odd about me. They dig my attitude. We can just talk, be silly, without this continual pressure of everyone thinking they know me, and my family. I can't stand the judgment." She paused a moment and then really quietly sighed, "or the pity."

Pity? I slowed down. No one pitied Rachel Black. I mean maybe right after her mom died, people here definitely pitied the Blacks, but if anything that just made her even more mysterious. She was adored in high school, universally popular. What did she know about social pressure? I slowed down to a walk. We were almost at the restaurant.

"I mean it's easy to hang with you. But it's nothing more than I can find wherever I go."

Suddenly, I was pissed. "I'm nothing that she can't find somewhere else?" Where did Rachel get off saying something like that to me? She noticed me. I knew the way girls reacted to me, the way she reacted to me last night. I needed to make her admit it, that I WAS different than all those other guys; that I AM more than what she can find out there.

So I phased, quickly hiding her face against my chest before she could conjure some horribly derisive expression.

She gasped and tried to back away; but amazingly enough, she was speechless.

In the silence, my confidence seemed to grow as other parts of my body did too. Whoops. I bent down slowly brushing my lips down her hair until I was breathing in her ear. "I'm not just any guy, Rach. You want me too."

She shivered and I started to feel her relax against me.

"You want me," I tried again. I knew she wouldn't stay under my spell forever. I knew she wouldn't even stay in my arms forever. My confidence was quickly souring.

As if she sensed my armor failing, Rachel broke out of her trance and started to squirm. "Oh Paulianne. Give it up. Such an impressive demonstration of manhood and yet, all I really want to do is eat dinner. Quickly. Let's have as few witnesses as possible seeing us together."

Damn, I was so close. "Say Paul," I growled quietly.

She just turned her face up toward mine to glare.

I didn't move an inch. My lips were practically brushing against hers now while I spoke. "Rach. Say, 'I want you, Paul,' and then we can go eat." I forgot which one of us was in the trance. I closed the millimeter gap between our lips, turning slightly so I was kissing the corner of her mouth, her jaw, down her neck, and onto her shoulder blades.

Rachel tried to keep still but her breathing got shallower and she couldn't help the moan that escaped with a quiet, "Paul." And then as though furious with herself, she tried yelling at me, even though her breathing was still coming in gasps. "Damn it Paul, fine." Then losing the emotion in her voice, she deadpanned my words back to me, "yes, I want you. Oh Paul. I want you. "

The sarcasm would have been effective if she hadn't gasped half way through it. My heart soared and I just smirked at her a moment before quickly kissing her mouth. "I want you too, Rach." Then I grabbed my bag of clothes she had let drop and dashed off to change.

It was going to be a great night.


	2. Ch 2, Feared Not Loved

**Chapter 2. Feared Not Loved**

After the server took our orders and left, I reflexively reached up and started rubbing the back of my head again.

"Bad haircut?" Rachel grinned at me.

I rolled my eyes. Luckily her little experiment had only lost me a dime size spot of hair just behind my ear. My hair was so short there anyway it didn't really matter but she was absolutely delighted that it had worked.

No, I was trying to think how to bring up her little admission of weakness on our way over here. She said she felt like no one wanted to be in the same room with her or talk to her. I couldn't for the life of me figure out why.

"Paul, stop looking at me like you're ready to start crying."

"So Rach," I began hesitantly, "you um, didn't have fun in high school?"

"What?"

"Well, I mean, on the way over here, you mentioned–," I paused awkwardly.

Why was I bringing this up? I'd be lucky to escape this conversation without her throwing the saltshaker at me. I quickly checked to see what the damage would be if I ducked. Thankfully this restaurant had thought to put in high dividers between the booths so the blonde behind me was safe for now.

Rachel raised her eyes at me questioningly. "Yes, and…."

"Well," I took a deep breath and continued, "It sounded like you didn't have many friends. From high school I mean; since you, er, said there weren't people here you could hang out with. Well, except me of course."

She studied me for a moment before responding. "People didn't like me in high school, Paulie. They feared me. Maybe not quite as much as you do…did…do?" She arched her brow at me with a sort of half smile. "But they feared me, kept me at a distance, wished I would just go away. I finally gave them their wish and stayed in college as long as I could. No, I wouldn't exactly say I have friends from high school to hang out with if that's what you're asking."

"But," I was shocked. How could she believe that? "You had the whole school worshipping the ground you walked on. When what's-his-name, Becky's crazy Christian friend, was suspended for walking out of Biology when they were studying evolution, you organized a school-wide protest. You were valed-freaking-victorian."

"Yeah, no doubt people revered me. That doesn't mean they liked me. To them, I was this scary unpredictable…" She trailed off with a wave of her hand and then grinned "…werewolf?"

I ignored the werewolf comment, too shocked by the realization that what she had just described pretty much summed up the way I felt about her through high school. But that was me. She was nice to everyone else.

Rachel sighed, "Look Paul, everyone liked Becky. At home, at school, she was easy to get along with, happy to go along with the flow. You know that."

I fidgeted uncomfortably as her words forcibly jarred a memory and request I had made sure to forget since it had weirded me out so thoroughly at the time. Now it all made sense. Apparently, Mrs. Black knew her daughter. She got it right and would never be able to tell her.

Had she had some premonition she would die soon? Is that why she left the message to me? Well I sure as hell wasn't going to try to explain it to Rachel right now, not here, not in a restaurant.

I settled for merely shrugging. "I don't know Rach. Maybe on the surface that's the way things looked. I always got along better with you." It was true too. With Becky, things were light, happy, easy, but never meaningful. With Rachel, in spite of all the crap she dished out at me day-to-day, she always took the time to really know me, to know what I was thinking and feeling. Most of the time this was with the intension of later using it against me. But even so, she treated me like family.

She smiled and shook her head. "Eat your fries. You're delusional."

Nope. I was in love.


	3. Ch 3, A Letter and Pictures

**Chapter 3. A Letter and Pictures**

"Well that was um…fun?" Rachel began as we reached the front door. "You know Paulie, I'm glad to see your table manners have improved since becoming a werewolf. At least now you eat with your mouth closed. I seem to remember it was only a few years ago you couldn't chew without spitting up everywhere."

Ugh, her infamous graduation party. "Jalapeños, Rachel. You put jalapeños in my burger! My mouth was on fire!"

She started laughing, glancing down at our hands. "All I know is I ended up with burger spray all over me as you tripped over the table trying to grab the water."

"You deserved it."

"A real man might have swallowed it." Rachel's grin widened.

"I think I've swallowed a lot from you," I countered.

Her eyes flashed fiercely and she tried to free her hand from mine. "I realize you've been brainwashed to believe you need to be here with me. But trust me, I am only here because I thought it would make you happy. I am more than willing to leave if I'm too much to swallow."

At some point, maybe three days ago, the expression that was now on her face would have terrified me. But a lot had changed and I couldn't help noticing how much bigger I was than her, how vulnerable and fragile she looked, and how fascinating her lips were when she yelled at me.

So pulling her closer, I whispered suggestively, "I like swallowing you."

Rachel paused a moment, her expression clearing. "Alright lover boy, it's obviously time for bed. I'll see you in the morning."

With that she turned to the guest bedroom but I held her back. "Stay with me tonight."

She cocked her head and considered. "You mean, sleep with you?"

Yes, and other stuff. I was relieved she couldn't read my thoughts in that moment. She would have never agreed to set foot in my room. "You said you were here to make me happy." I tried, smiling winsomely.

"Not that happy," Rachel muttered.

"Come on Rach. Sleep. Just sleep. That's all."

"Oh fine, Pauleen. Let me go brush my teeth."

I was giddy in bed waiting for Rachel to come back to my room. I imagined feeling her in my arms the whole night, rubbing her back, rubbing…I stopped my thoughts right there as she appeared in the doorway in her oversize Redskins jersey.

Rachel paused a second smirking before turning off the lights and coming over to the bed. "You look way too happy."

I just grinned unabashedly and put my arm out inviting her to join me. "Paulie," she began condescendingly as she got into bed moving my arm out of her way, "I'm not a cuddler. You stay on your side of the bed and if you start snoring, I'm leaving."

And with that she fell asleep, or at least pretended too until she actually did.

As for me, it was the best night of sleep I never got. I didn't want to miss a moment with her like this: quiet, calm, safe. Seemingly safe, anyway. I was not so far gone in romantic delusion to think that if she found me in a similarly vulnerable position next to her, I would not wake up without at least some hair missing, possibly something glued to my face.

So instead, I stayed up all night watching her breathing slowly change. And as it did, my smile just got bigger. The self-professed, anti-cuddler, actually turned out to be quite snuggly: tossing and turning, throwing limbs across me, until at one point she actually sat up, grabbed my arms, and then lay back down wrapping them around her.

I just kept breathing in her scent, feeling her body half on top of mine.

As the hours passed and I lay stroking her hair, my mind wandered to our conversation in the restaurant, about her feeling like the world in La Push had merely tolerated and feared her, about how she thought everyone wished she could be more like Becky.

I carefully reached across her to grab the pen and notebook sitting on my nightstand. Luckily my hand was there because my cell phone started ringing at the same moment. I glanced at the phone, checked that Rachel was still asleep and answered, "Hey Sam. I haven't forgotten about patrol tonight if that's what you're calling about."

"Hey, you live! I was wondering if she had finally killed you."

"It's not like that anymore." But then I sighed, "I don't know if she'll stay though Sam."

He paused for a moment on the other line before answering with a light voice, "Ah come on Paul. With you, who wouldn't stay?"

"I'll see you in a few hours." And I closed the phone, picking up my notebook and pen.

After carefully shifting Rachel, I settled down to think about the letter I wanted to write. I had no idea how she would handle finding out any of this but I really didn't have a choice. I owed it to Mrs. Black.

I was thirteen again and hiding in the kitchen. Mrs. Black was cooking, doing some complicated dance between cutting boards, skillets, measuring cups, and refrigerator doors. Rachel had threatened to tell everyone in school that I had a third nipple if she saw me again that day. So I spent the afternoon sitting in the kitchen. Who would see me in the whirlwind that was Mrs. Black's dinner preparations?

But as I mindlessly flipped through the pages of Jake's Green Lantern comic book, Mrs. Black's twirling suddenly stopped and she was staring right at me, considering.

"Paul, you seem to get Rachel."

I was speechless. What?

"I mean," Mrs. Black laughed at my expression and abruptly began her cooking-dance again, "Obviously on the surface she teases you a lot."

On the surface?

"I can't imagine how hard it is for her to grow up here. Surrounded by…well, all of us I suppose. She just wants more than La Push can give her, than I can even give her. Rach is ready to change the world. I love that about her –"

Was she really talking about Rachel?

"–Of course no one appreciates it. Her so-called friends only hang out with her, because it makes _them_ look so rebellious. My daughter who actually has a thought in her head has no one to talk to. Ironic. But how am I supposed to encourage her? I don't know."

I pretended to nod sympathetically, while digging in my pocket for my inhaler – my asthma always got the best of me when it came to Rachel Black. Apparently even just hearing about her was not good for my health. I was quickly revising my hiding strategy for the future. The kitchen was clearly not safe.

"You're young Paul. You won't get it," Mrs. Black was looking at me again intently. "But remind her of her family, okay? Some day she'll need to be reminded. She's as much a part of La Push as any of us no matter how far she goes away in her quest to solve the world's injustices."

I was backing out of my chair by the end of her speech, "Okay Mrs. Black. Yeah, yeah, I will" I babbled in my hurry to get away. What a coo coo! She was becoming as weird as my parents.

But that was one of the last times I ever spoke to her. Mrs. Black died less than three months later. Billy never walked again. And the kids…I looked at the beautiful girl sleeping in the crook of my arm and slowly stroked her hair. Like their dad, the kids were emotionally crippled. Becky escaped. Rachel escaped. Jake was left to take care of Billy. None of them really talked to each other about losing their mom as far as I could tell.

I felt like this outsider as I wrote about that day in the kitchen, like the Black-family voyeur. When I was eleven I remember my parents gave me a camera and the first thing I did was to try and stealthily sneak pictures in of the Blacks when I was over at their house. Looking back it was pretty clear that I wished I had been part of their family even then.

Sadly my poor camera lasted less than a week. As soon as Rachel saw me sneaking pictures one day of her sabotaging a garden tea party Becky was planning with some friends, she took my camera cliff-diving. All that was left was the one roll of film I had already used that week and had safely put into my top dresser drawer at home.

I carefully eased out of bed. Rachel's leg dangling off to one side distracted me for a moment, but then I turned to go rummage in my closet for that roll of Black family pictures. It was disorientating to say the least when I found it. Suddenly I was looking at the family I had just spent the night remembering. But I was so glad I had these. I would be able to keep my promise to Mrs. Black after all and remind Rachel that this was her family and she needed them.

I slipped the letter and pictures into an envelope and left it on my pillow, regretting that I couldn't be there when she woke up to it.


	4. Ch 4, For You Anything

**Chapter 4. For You, Anything**

I raced toward the tree line, anxious to get back to Rachel. After spending seventy-two hours straight together, the eight hours patrolling seemed like an eternity apart. I couldn't even imagine the agony I would be in if she left. My heart squeezed involuntarily at the thought and I began to panic. What if the letter had freaked her out? What if it made no difference? Shaking my head in an effort to calm down, I turned my thoughts instead to last night, to her oversize jersey hitched up while she slept, revealing the barest hint of a booty I ached to know better.

Then suddenly, she was there, racing toward me across the lawn. The more noble part of me took in her face: slightly turned toward the ground, mouth twisted, eyebrows scrunched, like she was in pain but fighting not to give in to it. Obviously something was wrong, but desire is a bitch.

My brain was screaming, over any concern, that Rachel was still just wearing the jersey she had on last night. Her bare legs and feet beating through the tall grass between my house and the woods hypnotized me. And then in the next instant, to my utter shock, those legs were jumping through the air wrapping around me, her hands grabbing my face and kissing me in a way that left no doubt to what would come next. The bottom, I had been imagining seconds before, was now very real and cupped by my overeager hands. I pulled her closer to me, carrying us through the backdoor of the house, and straight into my bedroom.

But when I laid her down, I pulled away for the briefest second to study the goddess that was eagerly pulling me back toward her. Her face was slightly puffy like she had been crying only moments before I had come home.

"Rach, wait. What's going on?"

"Not the time Paul," she looked at me incredulously.

"But you're," I tried to sit up a little further to get a better look at her, "you're –"

She sighed loudly. "Damn it Paul. Stop being such a fairy, before I change my mind about this whole thing. Just shut up, okay!"

"I'm not forgetting about this," I mumbled into her mouth as I let her draw me back toward her. "We _will _talk later."

"Mmhmmm….." Rachel agreed smiling against me.

#####

Something sweet and oily slid past my lips, dripping down my chin. Bringing up the back of my hand to wipe whatever was drooling across my face, I squinted my eyes open against the light.

"Hey Paulie. Wake up. It's dinnertime." The sweetest voice in the world did not belong to my beloved. Yet here Rachel was leaning over me, whispering gently.

"Hi, what—," My mouth was stuck, full of something chewy and creamy, and—

Then I was flying out of bed, practically throwing Rachel out of the way, desperately trying to spit out whatever was stopping up my mouth. My airways were constricting, my body shaking. I barreled out the front door to phase.

Unbelievably I could hear Rachel laughing behind me.

"Oh Pauleen, come back. You're such a sissy."

Was she taunting a werewolf? Had she not seen Emily? "Stay the freak inside Rach. I don't want you to get hurt," I half-gagged, half-screamed back at her through the gooey mess in my mouth.

"Clam down," She snorted dismissively. "You're fine."

I was still shaking but when I stopped running, I realized she was right. Nothing was constricting. I could breathe fine. Damn it. She was going to love this.

Walking over to the hose to rinse out my mouth, Rachel sauntered up slowly behind me and leaned against the back of the house.

"You okay there, Mr. Werewolf? Not going to go all ape-shit on me then?" She teased grinning smugly.

I ignored her and kept washing my mouth out.

"So it looks like we're not allergic to peanut butter then?" She pressed offering me another spoonful.

"Not funny Rach. You could have killed me."

"Bah. You had practically swallowed the whole jar before you even woke up." She waved the empty jar at me for effect.

I looked at her bug-eyed.

"I started out slowly…you know just to make sure. Hey!" She deftly dodged out of the way of the water I suddenly spewed at her.

Then I was laughing. I couldn't help it.

"I love you, Rach," I carelessly declared, grabbing her around the waist and shaking my dripping mouth on her head. "You know that?"

"Oh my god, stop it. If you're going to turn all romantic-superhero on me, I'm not coming back."

It was then that I saw her full backpack casually weighted over her shoulder. "Wait what? You're leaving? Already?" I pushed away from her. "We haven't talked about anything yet. Shit Rachel you can't leave."

My panic was quickly turning to anger and possibly begging. "You told me you would be here at least a week right. What about this afternoon? And don't give me some bullshit that it was just some smooching. That was a hell of a lot more than smooching." I was waving my hands in the air wildly trying to make sense of any of this.

"Calm down Paul," she whispered. It was her tone more than her words that disarmed me. She put down her backpack and handed me a familiar looking envelope.

"As much as it pains me to say this, you were right about us never having had time to connect as a family after mom died. Thank you for those pictures. I'm sort of sorry now that I took your camera." She paused and gave me a half grin.

To my astonishment her eyes were actually filled with tears. Rachel Black was crying? I grabbed her hand and pulled her down onto the lawn next to me.

"I could have had a lot more pictures of my mom," she continued sniffling a bit and leaning her head against my arm. "Serves me right I guess for being such a pain in the ass."

"No-" I started to protest.

"Yes, a pain in the ass." She paused a moment laughing lightly. "But it's good to know my mom sort of understood it too. That she understood me."

She was silent for a moment reflecting. And then just as abruptly the mood changed and she stood up grabbing her backpack. "So I'm going home. I'm moving back in with Billy and Jacob."

My heart stopped and then started to beat double time. I didn't even try to keep the elation out of my voice as I grabbed her into a crashing hug, "You're not going back to Seattle. You're staying in La Push with me?"

Rachel just laughed and lightly pecked me on the lips before rolling off of my chest and standing up to grab her backpack. "With Billy and Jake. And I don't know why you're so happy dumbass. I didn't say anything about you being allowed to come over."

"Rach, you just try and keep me away. I think you've more than proved with all your little science experiments these last few weeks that there is nothing that will keep me from coming back to you."

She studied me carefully but I turned my face up toward the rare patch of blue above us, closing my eyes and enjoying the sunlight.

"I'll jump off of cliffs; I'll risk anaphylactic shock; apparently, I'll even take a shovel to the nose. It's nice being superhuman. Because for you Rach, I'll do anything."


	5. Ch 5, Epilogue

**Epilogue** (Breaking Dawn, Chapter 8, "Waiting for the Damn Fight to Start Already," Paul's POV):

Going over to the Black house was always tricky. My parents lived a few doors down and my dad seemed ever ready to ambush me with a plate of freshly baked cookies if he caught sight of me headed down their street. So keeping my eyes trained on the kitchen window where I knew my dad would be lurking; I skirted round the overgrown bushes on the corner and then ducked under old Mrs. Akah's deck. I was just thanking my lucky stars when—

"Pollyanna!" Rachel, out of nowhere, suddenly jumped on my back, scaring me to death. "Sneaking around again? You should cut your dad a break. He just misses you." She lightly kissed at my ear and slid off my back.

I caught her before she landed, twisting her so she was facing me with her legs wrapped around my waist. "Where are you going? I thought I was coming over?"

"You are. But the way you eat, I need to go grab a few groceries or Jake will take out his pent up sexual frustrations on you, and well I didn't think you liked my brother that way." She started wiggling out of my arms and I let her down. "But you know, maybe this whole imprint garbage is just a way for you to get closer to Jake. I won't stand in your way." She gave me a knowing smile while starting to head down the street.

"Wait. When are you going to be back?" I called after her.

"In like ten minutes. Go hang out with my sissy brother. I'll be back before you know it."

I ran up and gave her a kiss and Rachel pushed me away. "Go!"

"Be back soon."

She gave an exasperated sigh, running away but not before giving me a last smile as she turned onto the main road.

I knocked on the Black's front door, letting myself in. "Hey Jake," I called. When I got no answer, I went into the kitchen and grabbed a bag of Doritos, settling myself onto the couch and turning on the Rainiers game.

A couple minutes later I heard Jake's bed creak and his door open.

As soon as he spotted me in the living room, he looked pissed. "Jeez, Paul, don't you freaking have a home of your own?"

Nice to see you too sunshine. Jake was just as grumpy waking up as his sister always was in the morning. I just smiled back mocking him.

"You better've brought those with you." I glanced down at the Dorito in my hand, and noted his hands were slightly trembling. He was so easy to get riled up these days. It was like watching me, before Rachel came along and I realized nothing could upset me with her in my life.

"Nope, " I just smiled at him, goading him further. "Your sister said to go ahead and help myself to anything I wanted."

"Is Rachel here now?" He spat back at me.

Oh crap. He really had turned into the old me. I grabbed the chips and shoved them behind my back just in case this turned violent. No point wasting perfectly good chips in a blood bath. I wondered how Rachel would feel about me hitting her brother? Yeah, better to make it self-defense.

I raised my fists. "Bring it, kid. I don't need Rachel to protect me." As if Rachel would ever protect me from anything! She would be too amused watching me suffer to even think about protecting me.

He snorted at me. "Right. Like you wouldn't go crying to her first chance."

Knowing her, she'd probably join Jake in trying to beat me up. Or worse, go grab a notebook and record how long it took me to stop bleeding. That wouldn't stop her from trying to comfort me later though. I smiled at the thought and relaxed into the sofa.

"Hey, I'm not going to go tattle to a girl. If you got in a lucky hit, that would be just between the two of us. And vice versa, right?" I retorted.

Jake relaxed and I turned back to the TV. I wondered if I could really hit my imprint's brother unprovoked?

Shit. Forget unprovoked. I saw his fist come flying at my face only a moment before I felt my nose crunch beneath it.

"You broke my nose, idiot."

"Just between us, right, Paul?" I could hear the same sarcastic exaltation in his voice that I knew so well from Rachel.

"You are such a pain Jacob. I swear, I'd rather hang out with Leah."

Jake smiled menacingly at me. "Ouch. Wow, I bet Leah's really going to love to hear that you want to spend some quality time with her. It'll just warm the cockles of her heart."

"You're going to forget I said that."

"Of course. I'm sure it won't slip out."

"Ugh!" At least with Leah you know where you stood. She always gave you plenty of warning if she was going to kill you.

But what was wrong with the Black children? Both of them were seething right below the surface, a package of hurt, ready to explode in a moment. With me and my nose!

"You're fast, kid. I'll give you that." I settled back in to watch the game and wait for Rachel as I heard Jake stomp away. Poor guy. I hoped he found his happy ending soon.

I wiggled my nose experimentally and sighed. At least he didn't use a shovel!


End file.
